


stay awake, wait for me

by orphan_account



Category: Professional Wrestling, World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: F/F, Kayfabe Compliant, Team BAE about to own the entirety of 2019, i'm putting it into the universe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-09
Updated: 2019-01-09
Packaged: 2019-10-07 08:51:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,275
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17362877
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: There's plenty of unfinished business between Sasha and Becky, both inside the ring and out of it. They try to hash a few things out before the Royal Rumble, and come to an understanding in the process.- OR -Team BAE outsold





	stay awake, wait for me

**Author's Note:**

> This isn't part of any universe or any prompt; I just wondered how Becky and Sasha, in character, would react to being in the women's title matches at the Royal Rumble given their long history with each other. 
> 
> The title is from a song by Jessie Ware. It starts like this:
> 
> Quarter to three, thinking of you (thinking of me)  
> If I tell you the truth, what would you what would you what would you do?  
> But it's been a while, hearing your smile  
> To tell you the truth, I could use more than a vision of you

News travels fast across locker rooms. Anything that happens on Monday Night RAW is immediately known on SmackDown Live, even if Team Blue is holding a house show as the red brand is airing. When something especially big happens, it takes but seconds for the whispers to reach across the aisle.

This news was quite big. Becky knew it immediately as she slouched to their locker room and saw the Iiconics nearly vibrating with excitement, their fingers virtually flying over their phones. She briefly debated asking what had happened, then decided it didn't matter; the two excitable Australians would announce whatever it was soon enough.

She was unlacing her boots when Billie and Peyton finally put their phones down and looked at her.

"Oh Becky, did you hear?" Peyton asked. Becky pointedly ignored her.

"It's big news, Becky, you might want to listen," Billie added, tugging at Peyton's hand. Becky ignored her, too, though she won't deny the little twinge she felt at seeing their fingers linked together.

Both Australian women pouted at her nonchalance, but recovered quickly. "Anyway," Peyton said cheerfully, "Even if you don't wanna know, we'll tell you! Ronda is defending her belt at the Royal Rumble."

Becky's head whipped up at that; on the other end of the locker room, she saw Charlotte turn, too. She felt her lips turn up in a snarl, before schooling her features into neutrality again. Too late, however: the Iiconics had seen her react, and they pounced accordingly. 

"You'll never believe who it is!" Billie gushed, and Becky briefly debated standing up to clock the woman. Fortunately, Peyton came to her girlfriend's rescue.

"It's Sasha," she announced gleefully. "She beat Nia in a No. 1 contender match. Tapped her out right in the middle of the ring."

Becky's brow furrows. She fidgets a little. She looks at her boots; the left one is unlaced, but the right one is still tightly wrapped. For a moment she wonders why she decided to start with her left boot.

Sasha vs. Ronda at the Royal Rumble. 

Becky trembles a little. Across the locker room, Charlotte tilts her head at her; she shakes her head in response.

This is fine. She is fine.

*

They still had a group chat on Facebook Messenger, simply named "4 HW." No need to over-complicate matters; their actual relationships with each other were already complex enough as it is. The last message was from Bayley, all the way back in August -- a simple "what's going on?" 

Neither she nor Charlotte had responded.

Since then their group chat had been silent, which is not to say they had stopped communicating with each other. Becky still talked to Bayley regularly, and she was sure Charlotte also talked to her. She was also fairly certain that Charlotte spoke with Sasha from time to time. And she and Charlotte talked all the time -- of course it was to fling insults at each other and what-not, but communication was communication.

She hasn't spoken to Sasha since April.

It wasn't a deliberate decision. She and Sasha have had an on-again, off-again thing since NXT, and they had pushed the "on" button in March, after battling each other in the Mixed Match Challenge. Becky can still remember Finn warning her to "be careful" -- a warning she considered for all of two seconds, then tossed aside while pulling Sasha into her hotel room. They stayed "on" all throughout WrestleMania, where Becky watched as Sasha and Bayley got into a screaming match backstage before she dragged the Boss away.

And then, nothing. Radio silence from Sasha afterwards. Becky had pondered it for a couple of days, then shrugged it off. She decided that this was simply Sasha pushing the "off" button again. She pretended not to be hurt when Sasha made up with Bayley and began acting all touchy-feely and couple-y with their fellow Horsewoman. She had no reason to feel betrayed.

But now Sasha was getting Ronda Rousey in a high-profile match at Royal Rumble, for the RAW Women's Championship. To say Becky was conflicted was a severe understatement. Her brain was whirring a mile a minute; her hands had not stopped shaking since she left the arena and headed to the hotel.

_ I'm going to go crazy, _ Becky thought to herself. She put on a pair of sweatpants, a hoodie, then laced up her sneakers. A good workout should tire her enough, and force her to sleep.

She wasn't surprised to see that Charlotte was also there at the hotel's gym, running on a treadmill. Becky deliberately put on her headphones and went to the machine farthest from Charlotte. It was near midnight, but there were still several people in the gym. No reason to get into a brawl with Charlotte right now.

Becky began to run. Slowly, at first, then faster, then faster. She breathed deeply; she felt the muscles in her legs burn a little. She closed her eyes and slowed down again, then began to run almost to the rhythm of the song she was playing. 

_ You could congratulate her, you know _ , her traitor of a brain whispered, and Becky faltered in her step. Fortunately she caught herself before she fell, but the little fumble was enough to get her to turn off the machine and step down from it. She could feel the anger -- hot and trembling and yet inexplicable -- beginning to simmer inside her veins. She clenched her fists and turned to look at where Charlotte was running. 

She wasn't surprised to see the tall blonde already making her way towards her. Even sweaty and in workout clothes, Charlotte managed to look regal and poised. She bore down on Becky with purpose, her every step escalating the Irish woman's ire. Becky clenched her fist even tighter; she was spoiling for a fight and she didn't care if Charlotte knew it, she didn't care if the people inside the gym saw it.

Charlotte slowed down as she neared Becky and looked down at her former friend's balled-up fists. She raised her eyebrows, and shook her head. "Not tonight, Becky," she said. "I'm tired, and I have to rest if I'm going to kick your ass tomorrow."

For once Becky had no ready retort; she was ready to throw hands at Charlotte and to be denied a fight twisted her stomach. Charlotte looked at her, up and down, then asked: "Did you call her yet?"

There was no need to ask who Charlotte was referring to. "I don't see how it's any of your business," Becky rasped out. 

Charlotte snorted in an utterly un-queen-ly manner. She shouldered past Becky, but not before saying, "Call her. You know you want to."

*

Becky tosses her phone from one hand to another, casually hoping that she would drop it and it breaks and then she'll have no way of calling Sasha, ever. Because she doesn't want to call Sasha. Charlotte is wrong, as she always is.

She tosses her phone in the air, then catches it. She does it again, this time higher. And again, and again. When she does it for the fifth time, she mistimes her catch, and her phone falls to the hotel's floor with a dull thud.

"Shit, shit, shit," Becky says, sprawling to the floor and grabbing her phone. She breathes a sigh of relief to see that it wasn't damaged; thank all the gods for carpeted hotel floors.

It was past midnight. She should be asleep. She should be asleep on a  _ bed _ , and not lying down on the hotel floor, carpeted it may be. She had a triple threat match against Charlotte and Carmella the next day, and she needed her rest. She should keep her eye on the prize, and think of strategies to beat Charlotte and Carmella…

If anyone ever asks, Becky will insist that she was thinking these thoughts even as her fingers swiped over her phone to get to her contact list. That she still had Sasha listed as "Sash <3" annoyed her; she should have changed it a long time ago.

She groaned even as she pressed "call."

*

"Uh… hello."

"Are you aware that it's three in the morning?" Sasha sounded  _ supremely  _ irritated.

"Well it's only 12:15 where I am," she responded. "It's Becky, by the way. Becky Lynch."

"I know it's you, Becky. What do you want?"

_ What do I want? _ Becky thought. Probably should have figured that out before calling her ex… something. Ex-girlfriend? No, they never really defined their relationship. Ex-friend? No. She and Sasha quite literally kissed and made up before she left for SmackDown, so…

"Becky. I swear to God. I need to sleep."

"Yeah, same," she muttered. "Listen, Sasha," she began, then sighed deeply before plunging on. "I just wanna, uh, congratulate ya. On the Rumble match with Ronnie. Great job."

"Oh."

"I saw the match with Nia," Becky plowed on. "She dropped you on your head a bit -- are you okay?"

"Yeah," Sasha answered. "Yeah, I'm fine. Nothing ice couldn't fix."

They were quiet for a few moments, before Becky let out a weak laugh. "Well, that's all I wanted to say," she said. "So, uh, congratulations again."

"Becky," Sasha interrupted. Her voice carried none of its earlier sharpness; instead it was almost soft, almost tentative. Her tone brought back too many memories that Becky had to shake off so she could hear what her friend was saying.

"You're not… upset that I got a shot at Rousey, are you?" Sasha asked.

"What? No," Becky said, and was shocked to realize that she was sincere. Had it been any other person -- Nia, Nattie, or god fucking forbid Charlotte -- gotten the shot, she would have been pissed as hell. She probably would have stormed the RAW locker room and laid waste to them again.

But Sasha… she deserved this. She earned it, quite literally. Becky had no illusions that Sasha would be the underdog against Rousey -- everyone was. She was almost certain that Sasha would lose, that she would tap to the arm bar as Alexa and Nia and Nikki had done, as so many other women had done. Yet Becky was also sure -- 100% sure -- that Sasha would push Rousey to her limits, farther than even Charlotte did. Maybe almost as far as Becky herself would push Ronda, when they inevitably come face-to-face again.

So no, Becky realized she wasn't upset at Sasha earning a title shot. She wasn't upset that another Horsewoman would get to fight Rousey before she did. She wasn't upset that Sasha was -- for the first time in nearly a year -- was getting an opportunity to fight for the championship.

"I'm not upset at all, Sash," she says, her voice soft. "I promise you, I'm not."

"Strange," Sasha responded. "Would have thought The Man would be angry that someone else was taking her spot, or something."

Becky laughed weakly. "It's not my spot - not yet," she said. "You earned this one."

Sasha chuckled a little. "Yeah, I did, didn't I?" She sighed softly. "Becky, I -"

"Yeah?"

"I don't know if I can beat Rousey," Sasha admitted. It was a very, very rare display of vulnerability from the Boss, but Becky wasn't surprised. "I want to. God, I want to beat her so bad. I just don't know if I  _ can _ ."

Becky was silent. 

"No reassurances from you, huh?" Sasha asked, her voice taking on a little bite.

"Do you remember what you told me, all those years ago back in NXT?" Becky said, abruptly. 

"I said plenty of things to you back when we were in NXT." Sasha's voice was a purr, and Becky felt heat course through her at the sudden change in the mood. Hastily, she steered the conversation back to safer waters.

"You said we could be at the very top of this division. The two of us," Becky said, her voice even. "You said we would rule over it with an iron fist."

"I remember," Sasha said after a few seconds' pause. "I don't see how it's relevant, though."

"We couldn't get it done before," Becky said. "But we can get it done now."

She could hear Sasha breathing on the other end, and she could feel her own heart beating loudly in her chest. 

"I need to sleep," Sasha said, finally, after a long silence. "I'm sure you do, too."

"I do."

"I know you have a triple threat match tomorrow," Sasha continued. 

"I do."

"I have no doubt that you're going to win it."

The line dropped. Becky felt her lips curl in an unwilling smile. "Good night to you too, Sasha," she murmured. She closed her eyes. The carpeted floor of the hotel room was hard on her back, but Becky still stretched luxuriously before standing up and falling, face first, on the bed. 

*

Over the next few hours, Becky would come to the realization that her phone call to Sasha was not the brightest of ideas.

For one thing, it was  _ Charlotte's _ idea. For another, she was woefully unprepared for what to say for her former… lover? … that she wound up stuttering about their ancient history in NXT. Did she really need to revisit the pipe dreams and fantasies that she and Sasha shared then, when they were both so much younger and not so jaded by the business? Did she really need to look back to the time when they hoped to change the industry together, to fulfill their seemingly limitless potential, to reach the pinnacle side-by-side?

She thinks back to the look on Sasha's face when she was announced the winner against Nia.

She thinks back to the past year, when both she and Sasha found themselves mired in mediocrity and took different paths to break their way out.

She thinks back to the night of WrestleMania, when she and Sasha spent the night lamenting what happened in the Battle Royale. She remembers how they devoted nearly 30 minutes trashing Bayley. She remembers how Bayley wrapped her arms tightly around Sasha after she tapped Nia out.

_ I have no doubt that you're going to win. _

Becky blew out the breath she didn't know she'd been holding. She squared her shoulders. She headed to the curtain. Her music blared out.

She sauntered to the ring and thought of the Royal Rumble. She thought of Asuka, and the title that the Japanese woman now holds.  _ Her _ title.

As she slides into the ring she resolves to put Sasha out of her mind. 

*

That night, their group chat pinged for the first time in a long time. It was Bayley; Becky should not have been surprised.

"Congrats, Becks! And Charlotte, I'll see you at the Rumble?" Bayley said. Becky debated replying, before putting her phone down again.

The locker room was nearly empty; the only other person left was Charlotte, and she was stashing that night's robe into an already overflowing suitcase. Becky remembered how she used to help Charlotte pack; those robes were a bitch to fit into a case. This time, she just watched as her ex-best friend struggled with the zipper before finally closing her bag with a sigh.

Charlotte turned to her with an unreadable expression on her face. Becky braced herself; last night she had been ready to throw down with the blonde woman in a public place, and she wouldn't put it past Charlotte to try for a sneak attack in the locker room.

But Charlotte only tilted her head again, in a way that remained so achingly familiar to Becky. 

"How'd the conversation go?" she asked quietly.

Becky shrugged. "It went."

Charlotte nodded. "Alright." She stood up and wheeled her suitcase to the door. "Becky," she said, and the Irish woman lifted her head to look at her. "Congrats."

Becky raised her eyebrow.

"I'm serious," Charlotte said. 

"Alright," Becky said. She was not about to say thank you to Charlotte, not now, not ever, not for anything.

Charlotte opened the door. "I hope your next conversation with Sasha goes well," she said, a parting shot, before closing the door with a loud thud.

There would be no next conversation, Becky thought, because she had no intention of calling Sasha again. That way lies madness.

Of course just as she thought that, her phone rang.

She debated with herself for all of 10 seconds before answering it.

*

"Hey."

"I knew you would win," Sasha said. Becky could hear her smirk through the phone.

"Thank you for your confidence," she responded.

"Well, I've always believed in you, Becky. Like I know you've always believed in me, regardless of how things between us stand," Sasha said. Her voice was self-assured and steady, with none of the vulnerability that she had displayed the night before.

Becky was silent. She knew Sasha was not yet done.

"I never forgot what I told you, you know," Sasha said, her voice dropping to a whisper. "I never stopped believing that, either. We can still do it, Becky. We can still achieve our dreams. I know we can."

Becky barked out a laugh. "Last night you were telling me you don't think you can beat Ronnie."

"Yeah, well," Sasha said. "Maybe sometimes even the Boss needs to be reminded that she's fighting for more than just wins and losses here."

"What, are we fighting for our dreams now?" Becky asked, sarcasm lacing her voice.

"Yes." Sasha's answer was dead serious. "Yes, Becky, we are."

Becky could hear Sasha breathing, deep and calm. She felt her heart beat a little faster. 

In the last few months, things had become overly complicated. Her feud with Charlotte, her feud with Ronnie, and now, her feud with Asuka. In hindsight, Becky thinks she should be thankful that whatever she and Sasha had going ended when it did -- she didn't think she could handle  _ that _ and take care of business inside the ring at the same time. It was just too much to carry, all at once.

Things were  _ still _ complicated. She doubted Charlotte would take this latest loss lightly, even with how sincere she sounded in her congratulations. She doubted Rousey had forgotten them, despite her insistence that both she and Charlotte were in her rear view mirror. And she doubted that Asuka appreciated being treated like a bit player in her own show, while she held  _ the _ belt.

For the time being, however, she can pretend that everything is simple. Easy. Straightforward. 

As simple as answering a phone call, from your friend-slash-former-lover-slash-potential-future-lover-still.

"Alright, Sasha," Becky says, feeling her heart begin to slow down its pounding. "Alright. Let's fight for our dreams."

She could  _ hear _ Sasha smiling, at that.

"I'll see you in Phoenix, Becky." 

The line dropped cold. Becky leaned her head back against the locker room wall, and closed her eyes tightly for just a few precious seconds, before standing up and beginning to fix her things. 

There were no guarantees in this business. Neither she nor Sasha will ever be assured of victory. Hell, both of them will head into the Rumble as underdogs, that much Becky knew. 

But now, both of them also had a secret weapon, and a shared goal. Becky felt a smile crack her lips, and before she knew it, she was laughing out loud, full-blown laughter, noisy in the stillness and solitude of the locker room. She gasped for breath, and clutched at her stomach, bending over.

"They're not ready for us, Sasha," she said, to a woman who was not there, but whom she was sure was somehow, some way, listening. "They'll never be ready for us. We're unstoppable. We've always been."

"It's time they learn." 

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on tumblr at rebeccaquinoa


End file.
